Green Arrow: The Origin
by primepower
Summary: My revamped version of the origin of the Emerald Archer. Enjoy!


My name is Oliver Queen. Call me Ollie. Everyone else does...well not _everyone_. Some people call me the **Green Arrow**. It all started three years ago...in another lifetime.

I was due to meet a man named Hackett; and employer of some woman named "China White" (or something like that) I was told she was some real classy girl. She was a billionaire running all sorts of philanthropist ideals. Being a millionaire myself, I was inclined to meet with the guy.

The two of us met in a diner, real fancy place. Red wine, a violin orchestra, the kind of place rich people go to. He walked in expecting a respectable businessman...boy was he wrong.

"Waiter, I'm looking for Oliver-"

"HEEEYYYY BUDDDYYYY!" My words slurred together as I wobbled back and forth on my knees, trying to stand. When I first met Hackett I was drunk as a sailor.

We sat down for a little chat, and the whole time I had to keep filling my glass with champagne. He told me to get my act together, and I gaped in shock. I had no idea what he was talking about at the time. I thought the booze, women and, well booze were all fine. He told me otherwise.

"Listen, Oliver-"

"Please," I said in a flirtatious tone only a drunk man could have, I leaned closer and whispered, "call me Ollie." I let out a hiccup and a giggle.

"Ollie," he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, "Chien Na Wiet is employing some of the richest men, and inviting them all to her own private island so they can see what they'll be investing in. We want you to back up-"

"I always loved islands," I said, not listening to word he was saying. "Always wanted to go to one, myself."

"Listen," he cleared his throat, "Ollie, if you do this, you need to pull yourself together. I know all about you. Your parents died when you were little and you didn't grow up because you never had to...you spend your time drinking beer and chasing women, this is a respectable business...so if you go, we don't want you messing it up. You're a millionaire playboy with no regard for human-"

"Flattery will get you nowhere," I told him. "Tell China White my answer is yes...I'll clean up my act...that's a promise.

I boarded the plane a few days later with a survival kit (we were going into the wild, I was told to pack what I thought was necessary.) as well as a bow and arrows. I always loved hunting when I was a kid. the blade, the sound of the arrow whizzing through the air, the "thunk" of it landing on target. Anyway, I boarded the plane, and mostly hung around the bar in the plane, getting stupid drunk. It was a few hours into the flight that I spied it.

"Hackett?"

"Yes...?" He asked, somewhat apprehensively.

"Why do you have a gun with you?"

"For your protection."

I never bought it, but I bided my time, and dug through bottles of wine, until I saw more proof. In the bottom of a barrel.

"Grenades, guns, flamethrowers...I gotta get out of there." I whispered.

I charged at Hackett, slamming his face into the controls.

"IDIOT!"

"I saw the weapons!"

"No use then," he muttered. With animal fury, he grabbed me and slammed my head into the reinforced glass. "Royal Marines teach you a thing or two." he grunted. My head felt like someone had chopped it in half with a hatchet. It burned, the aching pain seemed unending. The massive pressure on my skull, worse than a migraine. I finally dragged Hackett out of the cockpit, and we fought. By _God_ we fought. I grab the bow and arrows I brought and hit him with them, knocking him out. I looked out the window to see the ground getting bigger.

"Oh shi-"

The crash was amazing. I was tossed around the wreckage like a ragdoll. I found myself alone on a deserted island, only managing to salvage the bow and arrows before the plane went up in flames. I thought Hackett was surely dead, so I didn't look for a body...all that was left

_was to __**survive.**_

**Part Two:**

I had lost track of time. Before the incident, days would run together like fog, a distant memory of event, never knowing when they actually took place. It had seemed like days since I was on the island, but I would later find out it was a much longer time. Eventually, all else became meaningless. I lived to survive. I hunted, I ate, I slept, end of story. During that time which had become so forgotten to me, I learned to master the art of using a bow and arrow…I was good…better than most. I would fashion arrows out of out of scraps from jungle wood and bits of sharp objects I'd find.

It was a long time before I saw another human face…I had almost completely forgotten how to talk…but it all changed the day I broke my first rule: Never venture too far into the jungle. On that day I saw two men with guns patrolling the perimeter. I darted away like a rabbit, but they heard the rustling of leaves as I ran.

"Over there!" One shouted, firing bursts into the thick dense jungle. After a few rounds, he turned to his comrade, "you see that?" He asked him.

"Didn't see nothing."

For the first time in my life I had heard something not made of God's green Earth…something man made…the stink of gunpowder. I shot an arrow at one of them, it whizzed through the air with such beauty. It stuck straight through a man's arm. In shock, he accidentally pulled his trigger as he moved his arm back, shooting his partner. I had seized the advantage and threw a powerful blow! Two more and he was sporting a concussion and fell to the ground unconscious.

In confusion, I ran back the beach, and dropped to the ground. I remember the soft warm sand in my bare legs…it was a comfort…it was home.

I heard the sound of leaves moving behind me, and quickly snapped my head back, with reflexes I had earned during my time on the island, I aimed my bow as I spun around to find

"A woman?"

"Please don't hurt me!" She cried between sobs.

I lowered my bow, slowly, "I-I don't understand…what happened…who are you?"

"My name is Rachel Smith," she had told me, "I was brought here two years ago when people trick me into coming here. They told me I could make money, then next thing I knew…I'm a slave."

"Sweet Jesus…" I whispered.

"Please don't send me back to Chien Na Wiet!" She cried. "PLEASE don't!" She backed away in shock, crying like a madman. "THEY SAY WE'RE HERE SINCE NOBODY WILL MISS US!"

I remember thinking that that made sense. Nobody would miss a drunken millionaire, Oliver Queen. I knew this shouldn't be happening. Innocent people shouldn't be enslaved. I didn't even know why, I just knew…

"…How can I help?"

"By dropping the bow and putting your hands in the air!" An all too familiar voice came from behind me.

"Please don't kill me!" Rachel cried. "I have a baby and a husband!"

"Shut up, cow." The voice said.

I saw him, it _was_ him! It was—

"Hackett?"

"I'm afraid so," he said. "But I can't just let you two go free and ruin years of planning…no…_I'll finish the job I botched years ago…"_

**Part Three:**

I remember the gun, the cold steel gleaming in the sunlight. I looked down that barrel aimed straight at my face, and I knew…I knew I hated guns. Rachel, at the time, was behind him, readily accepting her defeat. I, on the other hand, knew better than to just give myself in to any kind of authority. It was just Hackett and me….the gun and the bow.

"Don't be stupid, Ollie." He told me. "Drop the bow."

"Why? We seem to be at a stalemate…" I reasoned.

"You really think you can dodge a bullet?" He shouted at me. I weighed my options…I knew things weren't in my favor. After a few seconds had passed he started growing angry. "FOR CHRIST SAKE, OLLIE, IT'S POINT BLANK RANGE!"

"Too true," I had told him, trying to hide the fact that I was stalling for time.

"What do you mean?"

I looked at him with a fiery hatred in my eyes. "If you wanted to shoot, you'd have pulled the trigger by now." With a twitch of my fingers, the arrow had landed hit his arm with a "thunking" sound. Blood spattered in all directions, and bits of flesh tore of bone. He howled in agony as he dropped his gun. Rachel, realizing what was going on, grabbed the gun and pointed it at him.

"NO!" I shouted.

I remember the look of anger on her face. She was aching to shoot him. "WHY THE HELL SHOULD I WAIT!" She shouted at me.

"I'm not going to be a host for murder."

Hackett had suppressed his pain, at least temporarily, and made a last ditch dive for me, but I threw my knee into his head with a simple gesture, and he was out cold.

"Come on," I told Rachel, "show me where the others are!"

"Wait, look!" She had shouted, pointing onto the horizon, we saw a ship heading for us. "We're saved!" She had said.

"What about your husband and child?"

"To hell with that!" Her mood had changed dramatically. She had gone from weary, desperate survivor to "dog eats dog" attitude. "At this point in life, if I see an opportunity, I take it!"

"But if there are others, we have to save them!"

"You go ahead then, be an idiot and get left behind!"

I did so, but turned around at the last second, and asked her "hold the boat for me, okay?" I could tell by the look of her face that she wasn't taking any chances.

I wouldn't learn until later, but as I was going to save the others, the boat turned out to be China White's crew bringing in more supplies. They tortured her, and even recorded it for others to see. I remember the video clear as day.

"Thank you!" She had said to her 'saviors' God bless you-." Her pupils had dilated as she saw the emblem of China White stitched to their sleeves. "Oh, no, no no no! She ran away as fast as she could, but Hackett had come to and tripped her up, grabbing her by the hair he beat her like a stray dog. "B!TCH!" He shouted, "YOU THINK YOU CAN HOL D ME AT GUNPOINT?" She was hit three more times, then left. Blood seeped onto the sand…my precious beach. "You'll be an example," Hackett had told her. "BECAUSE HERE I **AM **THE LAW!"Without another word, the men shot her through the head, and spilled her brains out onto the beach. Hackett wiped the blood from his mouth from earlier. "Should've gone with Ollie," he muttered, "you'd be alive for a few more hours." He grabbed a gun from a soldier and walked into the forest. "FAN OUT!" He barked. "**BRING ME THE HEAD OF OLIVER QUEEN**!"

**Part Four:**

I vividly remember the scurrying sound of footsteps behind me as I darted through the jungle. I had become so attuned to the things around me that a man made sound like footsteps changed my pattern and made it easier to detect.

I brushed my way past leaves, while tree branches lashed out at me, thorns scraped against my skin and drew blood from me…I was so frantic to get away I didn't notice the edge of the hill.

I tumbled down the rock hill, bumping and bruising myself on my way to the center of the crater. Blood spattered into my eyes, and instinctively, I reached out to stop my fall…I can still remember the pain from my mistake. Bones snapped, flesh tore, and I cried out in agony as my shoulder was wrenched from it's socket. It was the worst pain I had felt in what I imagine were years.

I landed in the center of the large crater, blood slowly draining from my body as I grew weaker. The crater held the crimson liquid like a cup holds water, and I thought this would be the end…until I heard a familiar voice before the darkness engulfed me.

"Don't worry, Ollie…we're not done with you yet."

The voice was all too familiar…Hackett.

When I awoke, my skull was burning, and my headache threatened to reduce my head to ashes should I try to move. I felt cracked all over…cracked like broken glass. I tried futilely to move my arms, until eventually, a gun fell into my line of sight, and a white haired Asian woman gave me a look as she stood over me.

"Welcome, Oliver Queen," she told me, "to the drug trades."

"Wh-what?" I had asked, still dazed.

"My guards caught you during your fall and brought you here for safe keeping…don't worry." She paused, as if to be dramatic. "We need a man like you to help harvest the poppies…opium don't grow itself." Her words were ice, and she had a slightly cheerful tone. "I control half the world's illegal drug corporations through here. Any employers want something, they can come to me."

"What?" I repeated.

She let out a sigh, and put the gun down, realizing I was of no threat to her. "My guards picked you up three months ago, Oliver…you've been in a coma for quite a while…welcome to my slavery…me name is Chien Na Wiet…please enjoy your stay."

She left me alone in the dark, and the name registered, "China White."

The days once again blurred together, as I spent month after month growing opium for the outside world. I discovered that I never met inhabited life because all the natives were enslaved as well. I befriended one particular native named Uru Daj...a peculiar name at best.

One night, while we were in our huts, he awoke me in the middle of the night before the work hours. He spoke one sentence to me, "Mr. Queen, my project is finished."

"What the hell are you talking about, Uru?" I mumbled, still half asleep.

He began digging through a sack, trying to fish something out. "There were rumors for years about a man who hunted outside the slave camps…he defied the oppressors using nothing but a bow and arrow…we called him the Green Arrow." He finally pulled out a bow and several arrows from his sack. "You talk in your sleep, Oliver. I know who you are…and I made you this." He offered it to me, and I took it without hesitation.

"You have your weapon, Oliver." He told me, "you have the means to free us…use it well."

**Part Five: **

I waited, and bided my time, trying to find the perfect day to launch my attack. I worked in the plantations, growling opium, and playing the obedient servant. I worked in the sweltering heat and boiling sun, and waited. Men who discovered my escape plan assisted me by stealing tools to create more arrows. Eventually, when they told me their masters would celebrate within the week with the first shipment of the year, I began to formulate my plan...they said they'd be using fireworks, and soon enough, the details emerged.

On that day, since everyone was celebrating the first shipment of the year, there weren't nearly as many guards, so in the night, I snuck outside. All the slaves watch, eager with anticipation. I silently plucked several arrows from my quiver, and aimed them at the guards watching the fireworks. With a flick of my wrist, they sailed into the night, and pierced flesh, ripping bone, and incapacitating the guards. I gave my signal, and the slaves started running. All thousands of them were too much for the guards to handle, and they were eventually overrun. They provided me the cover liked we had talked about, and allowed me to get to the fireworks. I grabbed a fistful of arrows and tied them to fireworks. I knew I would only get one shot. The fireworks were lit, and I was timed for it. I aimed, and in one shot, China White's headquarters erupted into flames and fiery explosions! The fire danced it's beautiful dance, fraying to and fro, and crackled with renewing life. The slaves had revolted, and were overthrowing their oppressors. I joined them in revolution, but as I took down a few guards, I found myself struck by the head, and turned around to see

"HACKETT?"

"THERE'S NO GETTING RID OF YOU, IS THERE?" He said, frustrated as rage flew through his fist. "HOW MANY TIMES MUST YOU SURVIVE BEFORE WE KILL YOU, OLLIE?" He screamed. He threw several more blows, pounding me to the ground. "It ends tonight…" his voice trailed off, despite having a hint of determination to it. He threw his fists at me. "CHIEN NA WIET IS DEAD, OLLIE! THIS ENDS TONIGHT!" He gave me a beating like no other, and pinned me to the ground and started lashing out at my already aching body. My headache was only made worse by the constant pounding of his fists.

"IF I DIE," HE shouted, "I'M TAKING YOU WITH ME!"

Finally, I was able to summon the strength to catch his punch, and he tried for another, and both his hands were caught. Adrenaline surged through my body, coursing through my veins. It made me stronger and gave me new life, as I wrenched his fists back, the crack I heard confirmed that I had broken both his wrists. I sent my fist flying and knocked him off of me. He tried in vain to hold his broken wrists as I stood over him with my bow.

"STAY WHERE YOU ARE OR I SHOOT YOU!" I shouted. "YOU THINK I'M BLUFFING? **MOVE**! I DARE YOU!" My anger eventually passed when I saw a beautiful sight. U.S Marines had arrived at the sight, and were rounding up the surviving smugglers. One came up to me to make sure I was okay. I had the typical grunt look about him.

"What's going on?" I had asked

"And explosion caught our eye as we were sailing by, the smoke led us here…did you know we were looking for this place for years?"

"Figures…" I muttered, scratching the back of my head.

"And who might you be?" He asked.

"Oliver…Oliver Queen."

"Oliver Queen?" He cried in shock, "but that guy's been dead for five years!"

"No," I said, "he's been lost…but not dead."

And so, it came to be that I spent five years on an island almost entirely alone. I came back to my home town of Star City to find corruption and greed. I found my journey did not end there. I still needed the hunt, and I craved a sense of justice…so I became a vigilante…I became…THE GREEN ARROW!"


End file.
